A Collection of Mad Swan Ficlets
by twostrandsofmelody
Summary: A series of unrelated drabbles about Emma and Jefferson.
1. You Are a Wonderland

_Emma is driving with the magical portal top hat in the back of her car, and Jefferson pops up out of nowhere in the backseat, completely giddy that it worked_

_~o~_

Emma didn't know why she was still driving around with the dumb top hat in the back of her yellow bug. But she felt partial to it, partial to the mystery of where Jefferson had vanished to after falling out the window with it. She'd been held at gunpoint to make that hat and she deserved to keep it in the back of her car if she wanted to. It was a token of that strange night.

She was driving along the road where she had first met Jefferson, night had started to fall – much like before, but this time instead of a strange man appearing in her headlights, strange purple smoke began to fill her car. The smoke blinded her vision, causing her to drive off of the road, slamming her foot into the break and bringing the car to a screeching halt, before coming perilously close to crashing into a tree. She coughed, trying to get the pungent purple smoke out of her lungs.

"It worked!" A voice shouted before laughing like a mad man. She twisted around, trying to see through the smoke that swelled in her back seat. There surprisingly – and somewhat not - Jefferson was, sitting in her back seat, clad in blue leather pants, and a puffy burgundy shirt and his hair was strangely longer than it had been several days ago.

"What the hell?" Emma coughed again, wondering if the smoke had some strange narcotic properties.

"You _are_ magic! It worked. I went to Wonderland! I went back. I went back! Emma do you have any idea what this means?" He was giddy, he was smiling, he was laughing, he was happy. It was strange to see the madman with a grin on his face. He'd been so solemn that night that she was held hostage, so serious, so sad.

"What?" How?" Emma asked, still flabbergasted that Jefferson had appeared in her backseat. And it seemed like the hat was the only answer to his disappearance and reappearance. He leapt forward, clambering over the middle console to make his way into the passenger seat. "What are you doing?"

"You are magic!" He seemed to have come slightly unhinged in his return to Wonderland – no he hadn't gone anywhere. That was impossible. "Thank you!" He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. He squeezed her tightly, "I'm sorry that I kidnapped you, but you were my last try! My last chance. You made it work!"

"Why are you wearing leather pants?" Was the only question Emma could mutter as she looked at the insane man sitting in her passenger seat. Frustrated more with his means of appearing and less about the fact that he had, she groveled, "You almost made me crash."

"That'd be twice now that I've done that. At least this time you didn't hit me." He smirked, running fingers through his shaggy hair. She wondered what it would feel like to run fingers through it, but quickly pushed those thoughts away.

"At least this time you didn't fake a limp." Emma snarked, staring at him in disbelief. "Where did you go?" She couldn't understand it, it defied logic.

"Through the hat." Jefferson hugged her, invading her personal space again. "I knew I smelled magic on you." He hadn't lost his lust-lidded eyes. The way his gaze flicked between her eyes and limps, like he was contemplating whether or not he should kiss them.

"Do I need to drive you back to your house?" Emma asked, turning away and gripping the steering wheel. She didn't want to see him looking at her like that.

"Thank you." He leaned towards her and kissed her cheek, breathing in her scent deeply. He kissed her check again, this time his lips traced the outline of her cheekbone. She turned, almost against her own will, and caught his lips with hers. She hated him, but she sure as hell wasn't letting him be the one to initiate the kiss. She was tired of feeling like putty in his hands, he could manipulate her and it made her uneasy. No man was allowed to control her like that. Twist her feelings. God! The whole time he'd had her held at gunpoint she'd been wondering if he was going to kiss her, push her against the shelves of hats, and have his damn way with her. It had clouded her judgment and almost made her risk her chance to get herself and Mary Margaret free.

She leaned towards him, fingers twining into his hair like she'd imagined, his hair was soft against the pads of her fingers. He parted her lips with his tongue, kissing her thoroughly, desperately. He was a starved man, thirsty for the sanity she gave him.

"Jefferson-" She gasped as she pulled away from him, her eyes flickering to the scar around his neck. She hadn't noticed that he wasn't wearing the cravat.

"I know." He replied, self-consciously stroking the scar. His free hand tangled in her hair, fingertips playing across her scalp. "It will always be there."

"A reminder of.." Emma gulped on the words. "Wonderland."

"You _are_ a wonderland." He wrapped his fingers behind the back of her head, tugging her towards him. He could read the questions in her eyes as she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over the middle compartment a block to keep them apart. His eyes were accepting of whatever decision she made. She settled arms around his neck, toying with the long hair at the base of his neck, laughing at how strangely appealing it was.

"We're in the middle of the woods; no one is going to find us." Jefferson assured her as she looked out the windshield, hesitantly.

"We could go back up to your house," She kissed him again, needing to feel his lips.

"Aren't you afraid I might tie you up again?"

"Sounds fine by me." Emma smirked, letting the desire in her eyes shine through. "Let me drive up there." Jefferson pulled away from her reluctantly, watching her as she buckled her seatbelt and started to reverse the bug. How had she gone from carrying a top hat around her in her backseat, to nearly having sex in the front seat of her car with a man in blue leather pants with a Cheshire grin plastered to his insane face? Now of course she was driving them to his house she could lose herself in wild abandon in his arms. The tables had turned.


	2. Caught in a Storm

_Emma/Jefferson Arguing and Jefferson's lack of personal space leads to a kiss in the pouring rain._

"Jefferson, you can't keep following me. It's insane, _you're_ insane." Emma stormed across the parking lot of the station, sick and tired of Jefferson marching following her, watching her, and generally invading her space.

"I am not insane." Jefferson snapped, stepping close to her. He knew that it made her unease, it made her squirm, it made her uncomfortable.

"Yes you are." Emma didn't step back, she actually stepped towards him as if to show him that she could stand her ground.

Then with a quake of thunder, the skies let loose the rain that had been threatening to explode for the whole day. Much like her anger with him.

"Emma, Emma, Emma." He bridged that inch of a gap, but not completely - their lips were still not touching.

"Please, Jefferson, I'm getting tired of this."

"No you're not. If you were you'd have moved by now."

"No, I wouldn't." Emma hated how he insisted that he knew her better than she did. "You don't know me. I would stand here and stand my ground and I wouldn't back down and-" His lips were suddenly against hers, desperation evident.

She should have pushed him away, shouted at him, chastised him - but instead she was kissing him in the pouring rain in clear sight of any Storybrooke citizen caught in the 7 pm rain storm. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into the kiss more and more. He was addicting. Maddening.

"Miss Swan, I do believe you enjoy when I'm this close to you." He pulled her flush, grinning at her mischeviously, temptingly, teasingly. "You _like_ the madness."

"Damn you Jefferson, damn you." She rolled her eyes and kissed him again. His lips tasted like evening rain, afternoon tea, morning sun. She felt like she was caught in a storm, where the sun was shining but the rain was heavy. Her feelings were confused, misunderstood, and mind numbing. She wanted him, despite the fact that he had drugged her, kidnapped her, and tied her up.

She hated him, she despised him, she wanted to rip him apart, and punch him - but currently she wanted to make him part of her. The tension she'd ached to feel again, to satisfy, was finally being dealt with. She didn't have to feel like a fool misunderstanding his insane body language for some sort of attraction - because it was there, it was evident, he wanted her too.

"You're insane." She mumbled through passionate kisses, wondering just how far she could go standing in front of the sheriff's office with a madman. Her fingers played through his wet hair, her own wet hair sticking to her cheeks and his cheeks.

"So are you." Jefferson grinned into her lips, his fingers knotting in her golden hair. She was his magic.


	3. Beautiful Disaster

_Jefferson getting back into society and Emma helping him along the way._

~o~

"You're going to go out."

"You cannot make me."

"I'm the sheriff, I can."

"You're going to arrest me because I don't want to leave my house?" Jefferson smirked, offering his wrists. "Or you just want to see me put in cuffs and thrown in a jail cell. Trapped with you."

"No, I want to see you living a life and not just sitting up here in this house all alone." Emma explained, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'll go out… On one occasion."

"What?" Emma quirked a brow up. He stepped close to her, stroking her cheek. "Jefferson."

"I'll go out for a kiss."

"You're insane."

"So are you." Jefferson grinned, leaning closer to her.

"I didn't agree to our deal."

"Yes you did." Jefferson kissed her gently.

"Ass." Emma hissed, pulling away from him. She couldn't let him see that she'd enjoyed the kiss, enjoyed the deal, and enjoyed that look on his face. He had bed eyes. Beautiful eyes. "Come on then, we're taking you down to the diner."

"Mhm, just like I thought." He grinned, taking her hand as she started to walk away.

"Jefferson, let go of my hand."

"You know you don't want me to." She turned and stared at him, willing him to second guess her words. "You'll warm up to the idea."

"No I won't." Emma insisted twisting her hand out of his grip. "Now, are we going or not?"

He stepped close again, his breath dancing across her face. "Depends on if you want reevaluate our deal."

"I am…" she hesitated, warming as she watched his eyes flickering down to look at her lips as she spoke. She was fighting a losing battle. "I am… We should… No its." Emma fumbled for words, trying to contain the quiver in her throat.

"Truth be told, I'm afraid to go out." It was the first sincere sounding thing Jefferson had said all evening. She'd come over to his place, he'd made up some lie about being busy, which then dissolved into being too busy to go out but not busy enough for her to come in, which then turned to will you try to make a hat work, which turned into I'm going to creepily stare at you while you work and offer you tea that you won't drink. Then somewhere in there she'd convinced him to go out and then this deal had been made.

"Jefferson, you have to get over this."

"People know I'm crazy. People know I'm the crazy hatter who lives in a big old house on the hill looking over Storybroke, and I live all alone. And no doubt, you've told them I drugged you and-"

"I haven't told anyone. I couldn't let them know Mary Margaret had escaped."

"But they still know me as the crazy man."

"Just go out, for once, then I won't ask you again."

Jefferson grinned, stepping closer, "Does this mean you'll come back to my house sometime?"

"What? I.." Emma shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You're incredulous." She shrugged her shoulders, "Sure. Whatever I'll come over again sometime."

"I can't do this alone, you know. I haven't been around people in a long time. You and Mary Margaret were the first people to visit me since I arrived here." His voice turned sincere, his eyes softening and losing their kidding nature. "I was in Wonderland for _years_."

"I saw the book."

"I went _mad_ Emma. I completely lost everything that made me, me."

"I know." Emma nodded, trying to fight away the disbelief. He sounded so serious, so certain. How could she deny him that ounce of credibility, especially when she was asking him to do something that made him unease. "Just try to come out of this house. You live all alone, you take walks at God knows what hour in the morning just to be free – but you're still always alone. It's not healthy."

"I'm not healthy, Emma." Jefferson stared at her, his walls tearing down before her. "If I lose it around people, don't blame me."

"I'll be there." Emma reassured him, taking his hands as he pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closing as he took shallow breaths. He was a beautiful disaster.

"I'm ready."


	4. Make Me Feel Normal

_Anonymous asked _

_Mad Swan prompt: Emma and Jefferson walk around the forest together. Bonus points if you add some Jefferson kissing her against a tree._

_~o~_

After Jefferson had reappeared in Storybrooke he seemed to have mellowed out. He started appearing in town frequently. Making stops by the Sheriff's office, with food, offerings of apology, and even flowers once. He started to become a regular at the diner, he was visiting a psychiatrist, and he'd even applied for a job at a laundry mat, mending garments. He was trying his best to fit into Storybrooke and he continuously said it was thanks to Emma.

"Would you like to go on a walk with me?" Jefferson questioned Emma, sitting down in the chair across from her desk. He wore a stupid grin, the same one he hadn't lost since he'd come back from wherever he'd been to.

"Okay, before I agree to anything, I want to know why you've suddenly decided to become part of Storybrooke. You were an outsider when you held me hostage and forced me to make you a hat. Now you've reappeared as a gung-ho citizen. What _happened_?" She was skeptical about his change of personality.

"You happened. You're magic happened." Jefferson's expression faded, "And you don't believe me. Come on the walk and I'll explain everything to you."

"Jefferson-"

"Come with me." Jefferson stood up, extending his hand. "Come on."

"Fine, Jefferson, fine."

~o~

Emma wanted to snap at Jefferson for the fact that he was practically walking on her with how close he was walking. "Are you going to explain or are we going to just walk deeper into the forest?"

"Well, you brought a gun and a pair of handcuffs, so I feel like you don't have to worry too much about the latter part of that." Jefferson retorted, grinning at her. "Are you going to believe me?"

"I'll try." Emma replied, sighing heavily.

"I went to Wonderland." Jefferson answered.

"You're insane."

They were silent, Jefferson stilled. "I'm sick and tired of everyone saying that."

"What?" Emma asked, turning back to look at him where he'd stopped.

"The people at the diner whisper those words, I was denied the job because of those words, Archie writes those words, and you _of all people_ have to keep reminding me."

"Why me of all people?"

"Because you have been the only person to make me feel slightly normal. To make me forget about the insanity." Jefferson gritted his teeth, bitter to the fact. "I'm sick and tired of hearing _'you're insane'_."

Emma narrowed her eyes, "But you are insane." They were the wrong words to say to him. He charged at her, knocking her off her feet and sending her to the ground. He removed the gun from her belt, tossing it across the clearing, disarming her. They rolled, she gained the upper hand for a fraction of a second before he pinned her to the ground.

She kicked at him, pulling her arms out of his grip, and then her lips found his. It was strange, it was her doing, and it was needy and desperate. It was releasing the tension they'd had pent up ever since she met him on the side of the road.

He rolled them over again, his weight pinning her against the mossy forest floor. His hand cupped her check, the other supporting his weight above her. Jefferson pulled away, breathing heavily and rising to his feet.

"I'm sorry I don't know what came over me." Emma confessed, dusting off her dirtied jeans and staring at him as he walked away from her. Her chest was heaving, trying to get oxygen into her deprived lungs. Why had she kissed him like that? What came over her?

"Jefferson?" Emma called, picking up her pace to catch up with him.

"Emma, don't kiss me to take pity on some 'Insane man'?"

"I didn't." Emma's brows furrowed and she was caught off guard as he pushed her against a tree and kissed her again. They kissed, hands fumbling along the curves of one another, the tree scratching against exposed flesh of Emma's back.

"We can't do this here." Emma rasped as she pulled Jefferson close to her, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, prying his cravat from his neck. His hands pulled at the hem of her shirt, pushing off her sheriff's jacket and fingers tangling in her hair.

"I need you." Jefferson hissed, his lips heavy against hers. "You make me feel sane, you make me feel… normal."

"And you make me feel.. insane." Emma relinquished control, let the insanity overwhelm her, let the belief in magic swell around her, and gave into the ache to trust in a fairytale.


	5. Contagious

_Emma/Jefferson - Jefferson's scar around his neck, something, anything :)_

_~o~_

Five weeks after Jefferson had arrived, from who knows where, he'd approached Emma for an "apology dinner". She'd obliged, hesitantly, offering that perhaps the diner in town was a better place to eat (somewhere where people would be). Surprisingly they'd hit it off, she'd figured the chemistry she knew they'd both felt at his house had been real. There was something between them that drew them together, allure, desire, need.

After several casual dinners, they'd finally kissed. After several more intimate dinners, and heavy kissing she'd finally given into wandering hands and tumbling onto couches with mangled limbs. But he'd always stopped them before the clothes came off. He disengaged and shut down.

"I'm really starting to get confused by this." Emma breathed heavily, looking up from the couch at Jefferson as he went to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Jefferson turned, silent, leaning against the drink counter and down the whiskey. "Eventually Emma."

"You _know_ you want it." Emma insisted, staring at him with a hint of desperation. "I could feel that you wanted it."

"Emma-"

She rose to her feet, padding barefoot across the floor, until she stopped in front of him. "Don't say my name like that." She reached for his cravat but he caught her hand.

"No." His eyes meant business, but she wanting him too much to say no. She was tired of the cat and mouse game. She knew that she wanted him. She knew that he wanted her.

She reached with her free hand but he caught her wrist again. "I said _no_." Emma pulled him forward, catching his mouth with hers. He pulled her away with a growl. "Stop it Emma."

"Why are you denying yourself?"

"Because, I do not want you to see it."

"The scar?" Emma asked, her eyes softening. "I've already seen it."

"But you haven't seen it up close and personal." Jefferson lamented, his brow furrowing.

"I want to see it." Emma reached for the cravat, surprised that he didn't bat her eyes away.

"I warned you." He said as she tugged the material away to reveal the harsh line that wrapped around his neck. It was knotted and twisted, the thin thread visible where the Queen's surgeon had stitched him back together. A grim reminder of Wonderland.

Emma was surprised to see his eyes closed, no doubt ready for her to cringe and turn away, but instead she graced the dark scar with kisses. Lips sliding across the jagged mark, tongue flicking out to skim along it.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush to him. He'd let out a warm groan as her lips trailed the scar, enough to drive him wild. He cupped her chin, dragging her away from his neck and lavishing her with a deep kiss.

Tonight was going to be the night that he was going to let the insanity take him over, he was going to let it spread, take control of Emma, drive her wild, drive her crazy, drive her mad. She accepted, though she wouldn't admit it, that he was who he said he was. His daughter Grace, his deal with the queen, his trip to Wonderland, and being caught by the Red Queen. He could taste the confession on her lips, feel the magic in every twist of her body, every touch of her hands. She believed him as much as she needed him.

Madness was contagious.


	6. A Mistake

_Anon requested a pregnancy of Mad Swan and here we have it. _

_~o~_

It had been one night, one drunken night. One night that she'd now, never live to forget. She'd gone to the local bar, met Jefferson there and she knew that she should have stopped at one drink. She never even took her eyes off of the glass - just in case he decided to drug her. No, she was smarter this time, wiser. But not wise enough to know that drinking and kissing him was a bad decision. It was a bad decision to get into his car and drive up to his house.

It was a bad decision to sit down on his couch and starting kissing him again. But it was bliss to finally be able to indulge in the feeling she had felt when he had drugged her and tied her up. He tasted like tea and books, despite the whiskey he'd been drinking. She'd pegged him for a whiskey man the first time she'd met him out on the road.

How was she going to tell Henry that he was going to have a sibling? How was she going to tell Jefferson?

"I realize we were drunk, but you're going to be a father again." That wasn't the right way to say it. "Jefferson, you're going to be a father." No still badly worded.

"Jefferson, I'm pregnant."

"What?"

Emma turned around, realizing that madman stood in the sheriff's office, mouth agape, and a bouquet of white and red roses in his hands.

"I.." Emma stuttered, "No.. It's just.. I.. This is not how this was supposed to come out."

"You're pregnant?" He stepped towards her, sitting the roses down on her desk. "Am I…"

Emma bit her lip, shrugging her shoulders. "You're the only one I've been with in months."

"I'm sorry." Jefferson admitted, the first honest sounding thing he'd said since she met him. He reached forward and cupped her cheek. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Neither of us did."

"I understand if you want to have an ab-"

"No." Emma shook her head, letting her guard down completely. "I'm going to do this."

"If you want me to be there I can be, but if you want me gone."

"I want you there." Emma smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She wasn't going to abandon another child.

"I brought you flowers." Jefferson commented, "Just be wary of the thorns. I don't need a sleeping beauty on my hands." He laughed, giving her a warm squeeze and kissing the top of her head. They could do this.

"That's a fairytale." Emma rolled her eyes.

"So am I and you didn't seem to mind it."

"I was drunk." Emma pulled away from him, giving him a playful smile. He leaned forward trying to catch her lips, but she evaded her. "But I'm not drunk now."

"Yes, but, you weren't drunk when you first kissed me at the bar, you had a few sips of wine." Jefferson pushed her back, grinning as she perched on the edge of her desk.

"Touche." Emma murmured, leaning up and giving into the madness.


	7. Alone

Jefferson downed his fourth bottle of ale, his second choice in alcohol after Ruby cut him off at nine shots of whiskey. She questioned about his alcohol consumption and he gave her a mumbled list of reasons. Being trapped in Storybrooke, being lonely in Storybrooke, being damned to a hellish life in Storybrooke, being cursed to remember in Storybrooke, being childless in Storybrooke, and being stuck in a house all by himself _in Storybrooke_. Basically he was an alcoholic because he was in Storybrooke. Ruby told him to take a bus out of town and he gave her a deadpan glare.

When Ruby saw him throw down the money to clear his tab and head for the door she called Emma, letting her know a very drunk and angry man was about to be let loose on Storybrooke. Emma found Jefferson standing in front of Regina's house, posed and ready to smash the windows of her car in with a baseball bat he'd found abandoned by Henry in the front lawn.

"Put the bat down Jefferson."

He turned, his movements dulled by his drinking. "Emma."

"Bat, down, now." She said slower, stepping towards him cautiously.

"Are you going to take me to jail?" Jefferson asked, not dropping the bat but stepping away from the car. "Just another lonely place for me."

"Ruby called and told me you had a little drunken grudge about our sleepy little town." She put her hands on her hips, staring at the drunken mad man.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Ever since you turned back up in town you've been a mess Jefferson."

"You would be to if your whole life was ripped apart!" Jefferson shouted, stumbling towards her.

"Jefferson, you're whole life has _not_ been ripped apart. We've been through this…"

"Emma, I lost my _wife_ to Wonderland, lost my _head _ in Wonderland, and I lost my daughter to _Regina_. Explain to me how I haven't lost my life?"

"Jefferson, you are not the Mad Hatter."

"Yes, I am. Emma, why can't you just believe! That's all I want you to do is to believe. You believed enough to send me through the hat! You believed me and now you doubt it."

"I didn't-"

"You saw this!" He ripped the cravat from his throat, bearing his scar for her to see again. "You saw this and everything made sense. Now you just pretend to not believe." His voice cracked. "I am a lonely man Emma. I have _no one_."

"Jefferson-"

"No! Don't stop me." He dropped the bat, crumpling to his knees with it. "No one sees me as anything but a mad man. But that's not all I am Emma."

Emma moved to kneel in front of him, watching as he started to cry. "It's okay." She tried to assure him, knowing it was the emptiest form of assurance.

"I am a broken man and you refuse to see it." Jefferson trembled under her touch, the compassionate stroke of her hand was foreign to him. "I don't want your pity."

"Then what do you want?" Emma asked, looking around to see if his drunken shouting had called any attention to them. She might not plan to press any charges against him but if Regina caught him he was doomed.

"I want.." He started to cry again, leaning towards her and hugging her. It was an awkward hug that consisted of him burying his face into her hair and crying even harder. He was pitiful.

"You want someone to care for you." Emma offered, hugging him tight despite whatever she thought about him. "You don't want to be alone anymore."

"Yes."

"I know how it feels to be alone Jefferson. I lived my life without parents, I couldn't make connections to others, hell I gave Henry away." Why were her eyes suddenly damp? He'd softened her heart and it left her feeling vulnerable. "Come on, stand up."

"Are you taking me to jail?"

"No, I'm taking you home with me."

"Why?"

"Neither of us need to be alone."

~o~

It was the first time she'd ever gone to bed with a drunken man when she wasn't also drunk. It was the first time she'd just slept in a bed with someone to be held, just to be with someone and not to be alone. This wasn't because they needed to be physical with each other. They just needed to be with someone, not just anyone – just each other. She curled her head against his chest, his hand wrapping around her back. It was the first time in a long time she slept peacefully and the first time he'd slept the whole night.


	8. You and I

Emma was going to have to question her sanity when the road trip was over. Because currently, after thirty minutes of the three and a half hour long road trip, Jefferson was making her want to murder him. It had all started out with a harmless proposition to go up to an abandoned house in the forest on the outskirts of the Storybrooke hills, apparently someone had reported seeing lights up in the hills – which warranted the sheriff investigating. Mary Margaret couldn't go, obviously. August, wasn't interested. Which left Jefferson, ready and willing to go anywhere Emma asked him to go.

Unfortunately Jefferson was one of the _worst_ backseat drivers and an even worse singer. His voice was fine, honestly, but his repetitive need to sing along to every single song on the radio was enough to make Emma wish her Bug came with an eject button. Perhaps she was the reason it all started, Ingrid Michaelson's song "You and I" came on. Strangely, Jefferson knew all the lyrics to the duet part and she tried to pretend they didn't fit the strange relationship they had.

"Well you might be a bit confused" Jefferson sang along with the male singer.

Emma joined in, singing along with Ingrid, "And you might be a little bit bruised."

Jefferson gave her a cheeky grin as he continued the lyrics, "But baby how we spoon like no one else. So I will help you read those books. If you will soothe my worried looks."

Their voices joined together for the last part of the duet, "And we will put the lonesome on the shelf." The way his eyes were on her face as they sang made her grip the steering wheel uncomfortably.

That was where his singing started to get annoying. After that song, he requested they listen to another song on her iPod, choosing "Ballad of Love and Hate" by the Avett Brothers. Of course he sang along to every lyric, somehow magically knowing every word.

Driving Emma absolutely insane. She was all for singing along to songs, but not when others were present. Not when she had three hours to drive with him. Why had she let him come along? It was certainly not to listen to him sing, "Kiss With a Fist", "Hey Jude", "Forever Young", "Handy Man", and "Mrs. Robinson" at the top of his lungs.

Finally on the last line of "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" Emma brought the car to screeching halt, slamming the gear shift into park and pushing her door open. "Get out of the car." She snapped, motioning for him to open the door. "Get out now."

"Emma-"

"Get out."

"Why?"

"You're walking the rest of the way." Emma grabbed the keys out of the ignition before he decided to try something funny.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Don't sing."

"But I like singing on road trips."

"I don't." Emma sighed heavily, leaning back against her seat. "Just stop."

"Fine." They were both silent. "Are you going to make me walk?"

"Will you promise to stop?"

"No."

"Then you're going to walk."

"I'll stop." Jefferson retorted, looking like a petulant child as he crossed his arms. "But I cannot promise."

She let out a frustrated huff, shutting her door and starting the car back up. "Can you try to be less annoying?"

"Maybe you should try talking to me instead of just huffing and puffing as you drive."

"You're driving me crazy, Jefferson." Emma retorted, leaving the car running in park. She turned her set to stare at him, not entirely surprised to see him leaning forward towards her. "Jefferson-"

"You know you like me singing."

"No I _don't_."

"But you enjoyed the first song." Jefferson pouted.

"The _first_ song, but not so much the twentieth." She gulped, finding him temptingly close again.

"But my mouth gets bored."

"Then how about you occupy it." She caught him off guard, in midsentence, and kissed him. She'd been wishing to shut him up for forty-five minutes and she found the way to. She felt him unbuckle her seat belt for her, hooking a strong arm around her waist and dragging her across the gear shift to plop her down on his lap. She certainly hadn't expected this. But it didn't deter her from continuing to kiss him, continuing to run her fingers through his hair like she had been longing to, continuing to let her fingers find the scar that looped around his neck and stroking it.

How had a harmless car trip to investigate an abandoned house turned into a make-out session in her car in the middle of the woods?

Emma pulled away from him, sitting up and looking around. "We should get up to the abandoned house before nightfall, so we can get to Storybrooke in a timely fashion."

"I am going to sing the rest of the way."

"Jefferson-"

"But I'll occupy my mouth a different way when we get to the top of the hill."

"What?" Emma asked, staring down at him. "It's an abandoned house?"

Jefferson hummed happily, "It's an abandoned house on the top of the hill waiting for us to inhabit it for the night." He smirked.

"But it was an anonymous call-" She realized it had been him and leaned forward to kiss him. Her foot slipped on her iPod, making it play again.

It was Ingrid Michaelson again, _"Let's get rich and build a house on a mountain making everybody look like ants. From way up there, you and I, you and I."_


	9. Pathetic

**Anonymous asked: **please could you write emma emotionally tormenting jefferson and bringing out the real raw vulnerability in him. i think you write angst and sadness so well. and then there's always the potential of comfort sex afterwards hehehe

**Anonymous asked: **Re the emotional torment (I'm the anon who requested it), I think doing it the other way around - so that Jefferson may hurt Emma verbally - seems more realistic so maybe you could do it that way but then have Jefferson feel bad because he's reminded of Alice by her and so he ends up comforting Emma.

**Anonymous asked:**i think emma could torment him if jefferson could just find a way to trigger it in her and set her off. but then it could be his plan all along to get her worked up, he just probably wouldn't expect her to go as far as to upset him.

"You're pathetic." Jefferson snapped, watching as Emma struggled to put the final stitches into his hat. He enjoyed watching her fall apart at his words. Perhaps he'd finally stumbled on a trigger word that would make her drop her defenses. Her hair had fallen in her face as she worked and when she looked up at him with a broken expression, her blond hair clung to her clammy cheeks. Jefferson laughed at her.

"Don't say that." Emma snapped, stabbing her finger accidently with the needle, nursing between her lips.

"Say _what_?" He harassed, stepping behind her and putting hands on either side of her shoulders, squeezing tight. "Pa-thetic." He let the word pop against her ear. Chuckling coldly at the look of pain on her face. "Work _faster_."

"I can't." Emma threw the needle down, shoving the hat away from her. "I can't do anything right." It's a truth that she's held so close to her heart for so many years, that admitting it killed her. "I can't, okay?"

"What?" Jefferson narrowed his eyes, looking at her with confusion. His ridiculing was supposed to make her work harder. Something snapped behind her eyes and she started to cry, crumpling over on the table. It had been a long time since he'd watched someone cry. It was since Grace had fallen in the forest and skinned her knees and hands. He'd held her.

"I can't do anything." Emma repeated, sobbing. It was pitiful, she was letting her walls down for a man who had _drugged_ her. "I've always been told that. Everyone. My foster parents… The doctors when I had Henry… Everyone."

Jefferson hesitated, questioning what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. Was he really supposed to hug Emma? He hadn't hugged _anyone_ in years. A lifetime. First he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, comforting. But she flinched away from his touch, sobbing harder. He looked around, wondering if maybe he drugged her again she'd stop with the tears and the sobbing. He didn't like seeing someone upset.

Emma looked up at him, face red from crying and tears streaming down her face. Her lips trembled and her make-up ran down the streams that made her cheeks glisten. Jefferson gulped heavily, realizing fully for the first time who Emma reminded him of. Alice. Emma looked painfully like Alice. Same build, same height, blond hair, and she even smelt like Alice. Magic and trees. He felt his heart jump, dropping low when he realized he'd made Emma cry.

Jefferson wrapped comforting arms around Emma's shoulders, burying his face in her blond hair and inhaling deeply and desperately. If he closed his eyes hard enough and imagined she felt like Alice. It had been since Grace's birth that he'd held Alice in his arms. Emma clung to him, trembling, needing to feel arms around her that brought some sort of relief. Even if he was the cause of her pain, his arms felt comfortable to her. They were welcoming despite it all.

He felt like home.

Emma pulled back from the hug, not fully releasing him from her arms. Just enough to stare him in the face. Their faces were painfully close as they searched each other's face.

"I'm sorry." Jefferson apologized, eyes flickering down to her lips, wanting to kiss away her troubles – but knowing it was wrong. Not after what he'd made her relive with his harsh words.

Emma nodded, tears still running down her face. She hesitated, but willing to try it once, just once. She needed to understand this strange connection she felt to him. She'd felt it the moment she nearly ran him off the road. The first time her fingers brushed his as he unrolled the map and handed her a cup of tea. The fact that she felt safe with him even after he'd drugged her.

Sure he'd pointed a gun at her, but she _knew_ he wouldn't shoot her.

Their lips brushed, just barely grazing each other, testing each other. Curious about the taste of each other, the texture, the feeling. Emma pulled away from the touch, her eyes heavy lidded as they looked at him, asking permission to kiss him again. He nodded subtly, meeting her lips halfway. Their kisses were tentative, cautious. They barely knew each other, but they _knew_ each other.

Her lips tasted like the sedative laced tea and the tears that he'd caused. He parted her lips, his tongue begging entrance, begging to tangle with her tongue. His fingers tangled through her messy blond hair, marveling at the texture between his calloused fingers. The angle for the kiss was all wrong and he tugged her up. He let her stand between his legs as he rested against the table, turning them slowly so she was the one with her bum against the table.

His eyes asked permission as he lifted her up onto the table, in awe of the fact that she let him. It felt like time had stopped all over again. Her lips felt like an escape from every problem he'd ever faced. His hands skimmed along the smooth, exposed, expanse of her shoulders. Emma tugged his vest off of his shoulders and he mentally questioned when she'd worked the buttons loose. He tensed, catching her hands as they moved to his cravat.

"Emma."

"Jefferson." God his name on her lips was enough to make him lose every ounce of control, he kissed her again but didn't let go of her hands.

"I have a scar."

"We all have scars."

"Emma, you don't believe in Wonderland." Jefferson warned, "So what you will see will horrify you." He was going to lose her.

She slowly untied the cravat, letting it fall from her hold as her eyes took in what they saw. "Oh my God." She muttered, eye glued to the knotted scar wrapped around his neck. Her fingers traced it, hesitantly, found where it wrapped completely around. It was bumpy, gnarled scar tissue, with a cord of red satin thread holding the pieces together. The skin had grown around the lace used to tie the pieces together. She gulped, realizing that the severity of the wound couldn't have been inflicted and survived. The skin had scarred holes from where a needle had been jabbed into his jugular vein to bring the two severed pieces of flesh together.

Emma looked up at his eyes and found them closed tight, expecting the worse. Despite the disgust that rolled in her stomach, she leaned forward and kissed the scar. The texture tickled her lips as she traced it across his Adam's Apple. His hands found her hips, gripping them tightly. "_Emma_." He rasped.

She pulled back and smiled, despite the tears that started to fall again.

"You're crying?"

Emma shook her head, laughing slightly. "I believe you."

"You do?" He asked incredulous of her words. They struck him like perfect chords played on a piano. He tucked her hair behind her ears, kissing her again, savoring her taste.

"Yes." She tucked her feet behind his knees and pulled her towards him. "Do you have another room, somewhere more… comfortable?" She laughed, shifting on the hard table.

"I.." He gaped at her question. He never expected anyone to ask themselves to his bedroom. "Forward aren't we?" He teased softly, sweeping her off the table and into his arms. He wanted to show her everything he knew, he wanted to make her feel important, he wanted to fill that hole inside of him, to make himself feel again, to make her feel important.

"Emma?" He whispered as he carried her past the door which held Mary Margaret, hoping she wouldn't suddenly want to let her mother free and kill the moment.

"Yes?" She didn't seem concerned, as stroked a finger across the scar again.

"Do you know what Emma means?" She shook her head. "It's Germanic for 'whole' and 'universe'. I don't care what's happened to you in the past, but tonight you are going to be the center of the universe." He pushed open his bedroom door, walking in and laying her down on his bed. He shucked off his shirt, joining her there. Their baggage was left somewhere else, because tonight they were two people who needed someone to be there for them. To make them feel whole.

_**Interesting note: Jefferson is a derivative of Son-of-Jeffery which comes from the Germanic name Geoffrey. Geoffrey means "Stranger" and "Hostage" – Ironic when you think of the situation he put Emma into. And yes, Emma means what I had Jefferson tell her.**_


	10. Titanic

**Well, in light of the Titanic anniversary and all this Mad Swan "shipping" and this prompt: **

_batsonthebrain asked drabblesofmelodies:_

_MS prompt- (fluff) ice cream, television, blanket and a grouchy Hatter. i'm curious to see what you can do with this._

**We have a date night.**

"Why are you being so grouchy about this?" Emma arched a brow at Jefferson. He had been huffing and puffing, arms crossed, and chewing the popcorn angrily – and the movie hadn't even started yet. "It was your idea." Jefferson's brow furrowed as he stared at the t.v. and gave her no response. It didn't even look like he was watching the t.v., in fact he seemed to be staring at the t.v. as emphasis for whatever was irritating him.

Emma sighed heavily, reaching for the remote and pausing the D.V.D. "You wanted to have this date. I did not. I can go."

"I want to have the date." Jefferson exclaimed, suddenly worried that Emma would leave him alone. Though he spoke with enthusiasm, he still looked gloomy. "Don't go."

"Then knock it off." Emma glared at him with an I-mean-business glare.

"I wouldn't be pissed off if you hadn't chosen _Titanic_ to watch." Jefferson exclaimed with an almost child-like petulance.

"Are you being serious?" Emma tried to stifle her laughter. "That's why you're pissed?"

"I need ice cream." Jefferson muttered, as he stood up and walked out of the room. He didn't enjoy being laughed at. He rummaged in the freezer significantly longer than it should have taken to find the Rocky Road ice cream that was already practically in his hand.

"Find the ice cream yet?" Emma asked, stepping beside Jefferson.

"Dammit Emma." Jefferson hissed, grabbing the ice cream and turning away from her.

"I'm just going to go, this whole date things is not working." Emma shook her head in defeat.

"Wait! No. Don't go." Jefferson followed her out into the living room, grabbing her keys off of the table before she could reach them.

"_Jefferson_." Emma growled, eyeing him angrily. "Give me my keys."

"No. I don't want you to leave."

"You won't stop sulking, so I'm going. This is not a date."

"I'll tell you why I am mad. If you don't laugh." Jefferson contemplated extending his hand with the keys in it, but he figured that she'd snap them out of his hand and bolt for the door and he didn't really want to charge her.

"Fine." She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at him.

"I don't like the _Titanic_."

"Why?"

Jefferson frowned, looking at the ground. "It makes me cry."

"What?" She couldn't hear him, he was whispering so softly.

"It makes me cry." He said a little louder, ashamed of the fact.

Emma didn't let her face betray her, despite wanting to burst into laughter. She didn't peg Jefferson for the crying at movies sort. He seemed to hardened to be a crier. But the look on his face currently was enough to break the hardest heart. His eyes had softened and his lips were quivering.

"I didn't want to cry on our date." He offered her the keys, sitting them back down on the table and moving to the DVD player. "You don't have to stay, you can go."

"No, Jefferson, I'll stay. I'll even watch another movie."

His eyes lit up and he turned around and smiled the smile that she mentally referred to as his partially insane smile. "You'll stay?"

"Yes." Emma smiled at him, moving to sit back down on the sofa. "I told you that I'd try this date thing and I'm serious."

"We can watch _Titanic_, if-"

"Stipulations, really?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"You don't laugh at me when I cry."

"And?"

"I get to kiss you when they're in the car."

Emma rolled her eyes and motioned for him to sit down, "Fine."

"Prepare for waterworks." Jefferson laughed, grabbing his tub of ice cream and sitting down next to her. He was completely insane and she hated to admit that she loved every last bit of his madness. It was as addicting as the taste of Rocky Road ice cream on his lips as he kissed her, the sweetness mingled with a touch of salty tears.


End file.
